


The Last Night

by MagicInHerMadness



Category: Pitch (TV 2016)
Genre: All Bawson Smut Network Sinning Sunday, Canon Divergence, Car Sex, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, another take on THAT moment, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 20:10:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9341297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagicInHerMadness/pseuds/MagicInHerMadness
Summary: So this is another take on THAT moment from 1x09. Smut.





	

**Author's Note:**

> As I've mentioned 1x09 was the season finale and I will hear nothing else. Because of how I am, and how I know y'all are, it's smut.

Mike’s sure he can feel every ounce of blood draining from his brain in search of lower destinations as he holds Ginny. Her scent—sweet and spicy, flowers and cinnamon (?)—is what he’d like the coroner to list as his cause of death. Her soft firmness in his arms is a viable alternative. At least until she pulls back to look at him. No, the look in Ginny’s eyes is definitely what will kill him. He wants her face carved into his tombstone so everyone knows exactly how and why he died.

Her voice is a murmur so soft that he could pretend not to hear it if it weren’t for her breath on his lips. It smells like Doublemint, his favorite gum, and he almost smiles because of course she chews his gum now. It’s kind of like how he hums when he works out now. “You have an early flight.”

The only way a plane could mean something to him at the moment is if one fell out of the sky in front of Broadner’s, and even then it would only be if it killed the mood for Ginny. Judging by the darkness of her eyes, it probably wouldn’t. He croaks, “Yeah” because that flight can careen straight to hell. _The_ Ginny Baker is giving him “kiss me” eyes.

And she’s leaning in and he’s tipping his head down, and their mouths haven’t touched but already he’s on fire, his fingers digging into the pliant flesh of that perfect pear-shaped ass. But the world is a place of endless cruelty and his phone buzzes between them. Mike reasons that if someone’s dying, whoever is calling will leave a voicemail. And Ginny still smells like everything he’s ever wanted so he leans in again, but she pulls back just enough. “Answer it. It might be important.”

He wants to be a wiseass. He really does. Say something like, “It _might_ be Jesus. The world is full of possibilities, rookie,” then proceed to kiss her senseless, but he sighs, takes out his phone and frowns at the screen. It’s that shitpot Oscar, and Mike makes a mental note to curb stomp him the next day for not knowing that texting is preferable to potentially destroying his only chance at Nirvana. “It’s just Oscar. He’ll call back.”

“Answer,” she implores, and he sees the glimmer of hope that something’s changed gleaming in her eyes. It’s been in the pit of his stomach the whole day, this lingering hope that Chicago or the Padres powers that be will change their minds and let him stay. He sighs and answers.

“Yeah?” It’s rude but forgive him for being a little testy when he’s got a full-blown hard on in the middle of an empty street.

“Chicago’s off. It fell through. It was a financial thing.” He will admit that he likes Oscar’s lack of bullshit and pleasantries. And even though he’s watching his dreams of a ring likely go up in smoke, he’s not terribly deflated by the news.

“Um, okay. Yeah. Thanks for calling right away.” He hangs up before Oscar can give him some vanilla speech about him still being part of the Padres family. He looks up at Ginny and she’s staring at him harder than ever, trying to read his face. “The Chicago deal fell through. I’m not going anywhere.”

As he’d figured it would, the wind in her sails dies. She looks relieved, but also disappointed and if he didn’t know her so well, he’d ask how her feelings are split. She takes a deep breath, backs out of his space, but he follows because _godfuckingdammit_ he can’t let this go. Not tonight. Not when they were so close. “Ginny…”

She shakes her head and he takes her face—oh, how he loves that face—in his hands. “We can’t, Mike.”

He goes for broke, “shoots his shot” as Voorhies calls it. “I’m in love with you. I shouldn’t say it. Especially not now. There’s literally nothing worse in the world to say but I am. I’m selfish too because I needed you to know before I abandoned you, and a coward because I should have said it when I called your name instead of telling you I nailed your cleats, which I did because I’m also an asshole—”

“I love you too. I’m in love with you too,” she interrupts. And he laughs because it’s the best news in the world, and because his little shit of a rookie just can’t let him finish a thought. It’s a sickness, really. She cuts his laughter off with a kiss, so sudden and jarring that their noses bump. He doesn’t care. One taste of her is enough to spark an addiction from which he’ll never recover.

He kisses her lips over and over, his hands moving from her cheeks to her hair then to her neck and shoulders. There isn’t an inch of her he doesn’t want to touch. But the driver of her uber SUV clears his throat and they stop. Mike’s almost positive there’s murder in his eyes because _godfuckindammit_ why can’t the world let him kiss Ginny Baker? “Do you need me ma’am?”

Mike answers because Ginny’s got the glazed eyes of someone who has vacated their body. He thinks quick because he’s good like that, digs into his pocket for his wallet. “How much would it cost for you to disappear for a little bit? Go have a drink or something?”

He reaches into his car and takes his keys then looks at Mike. “Fifty.”

Mike plucks a hundred from his wallet and hands it over. “The bartender’s cute. Get to know her.”

He smiles as he pockets it. “There’s condoms and lube in the console if you need it. And the backseat completely reclines.”

Mike smiles. This man is his sole hero of the night. “Take your time.”

“You too.” He bops into the bar and Mike turns back to Ginny. She’s smirking at him, her bottom lip swollen from him sucking on it.

“Did you just buy us an hour of car sex?”

He cocks an eyebrow as he opens the back door. “Could you really wait for us to get to your place or mine?”

She laughs. “This is why you’re my captain.”

The backseat does indeed recline into a nice-sized makeshift bed. Ginny climbs in and sits in the middle, moves to kick off her pumps but Mike stops her. “Leave those on.”

She raises her eyebrows but shrugs, moves on to unzipping her dress. Mike snorts as he shuts the door. He kneels in the small space between the front and backseat—his knees will have to be damned today—and stops her. “Let me do this, Baker.”

She salutes him. “Yes Captain.”

He laughs, still smiling as he kisses her. “Say it again.”

“ _Yes captain_.” She’s breathless because he’s sucking on her sweet spot, a spot he learned about accidentally when he was annoying her and she nearly shivered out of her skin.

Mike remembers it vividly, how he’d been twelve years old in the moment as he taunted “I’m not touching you,” his fingers inches from her neck until he poked her and she jumped, letting out a gasp that made his eyebrows furrow. He poked the spot again and she shivered, shrinking away from him and hissing, “Stop that,” even as Mike did it again, figuring out quickly why the spot made her so antsy.

He chuckles, shakes his head, never pulling his mouth away. “Not that. Say I love you.”

“How do you know I meant it outside the moment?”

He smacks her thigh as he hikes up her tiny black dress. “Can you maybe not be a little shit right now? I’m trying to have a moment.”

“You’re _always_ trying to have a moment, you narcissist.”

He bites her neck, tugs off the scrap of lace that he’s reluctant to call panties. He holds it up to examine it then looks down at her. “Were you gonna sleep with him tonight?”

She shakes her head. “Just didn’t want panty lines. I’m still a lady.”

“Despite all evidence to the contrary.”

She laughs. “Fuck you.”

“So eager.” He wriggles around until his jeans are around his knees, remembers his new friend’s tip, and opens the console. It contains a plethora of condoms in a surprising variety. “Okay Baker what’s your preference? We’ve got ribbed, flavored, ultra-thins, _studded_ …”

“Just put one on, old man.”

He chuckles, repeats, “so eager” as he chooses a ribbed Trojan and closes the console. He pushes down his boxers and his eyes dart to her face to see her reaction. He’s got a respectable dick, especially in an industry so plagued with performance enhancers. It inflates when she exhales, “Wow.”

He’s not even hard but he’s managed to impress her. This is truly a relationship destined for greatness. He lets her stroke him a few times and he’s sure he sees God herself. His mind hazes as she she unzips her dress, pulls it down to reveal a lacy bra that doesn’t offer much more coverage than the matching panties. The latex is cool on his hot skin as he rolls the condom on under her lusty gaze. Ginny lays back as he covers her thin body with his stockier one, her legs falling open around him. His hand drifts between her legs but she stops him. “You’re good to go, believe me. And I might die if we don’t get to it.”

He’s a 36-year-old soon-to-be has been having sex in the back of a car that’s not his own. This should be a low point for him. But underneath him is the first female MLB player, and arguably the most beautiful woman in existence. And she’s so eager to jump his ancient bones that he doesn’t even need to prep her. A world series ring can suck it. He’s already got the gold. Especially when he slides inside her and her pulsing warmth makes him shiver. He moans, much louder than he intends but the sound mirrors hers own as she wraps her arms around his neck.

“Mike,” she drawls out his name, her lips so close to his ear. “You’ve gotta move. I need—”

He realizes he’s perfectly still, basking in the glory that is Ginny Baker. His hips sputter to a start and Ginny wraps her legs around his waist, digs her heels into the small of his back. He groans. It’s a strangely pleasurable sensation. Ginny threads her fingers through his hair. “Go slow.”

He slows his pace, sinks deeper into her warmth until he bottoms out, earning a groan from both of them. “Fuck Gin…”

Her blunt nails scraped his shoulders as she clung to him. “Right there...”

He hits the spot again and again, makes her quiver in his arms. He needs to memorize every second of this, especially since he likely won’t get another chance until their status as teammates changes. He buries his face in her neck, murmurs how good she felt into her hot skin. Ginny lifts his face up. “What are you saying?”

Mike tries to keep his head up, maintain their eye contact, but there’s a storm swirling in the pit of his stomach that makes him lay his head on the seat beside hers and bite her earlobe, moan in her ear about how good she feels wrapped around him. Ginny flexes around him, whines, “Keep talking.”

His thrusts harder, relishes the sound of their slapping flesh and the little breathless “ah!” she lets out each time they meet. He hooks his arms under her legs, strokes deep and slow, tells her how sexy she looks spread out for him.  

It doesn’t take them long to cover themselves in sweat, Mike’s hands anchored on her hips as he thrusts inside her until he bottoms out. He’s leaving bruises but Ginny doesn’t care, her vision going white at the edges as the familiar sensation creeps up her spine. Mike’s thumb is pressed on her clit, working it in slow circles that make her legs shake as they bracket his hips.

Then ending begins with faint ripples in her channel that make the arch of her back sharpen as she pushes closer to him. She bites his earlobe, makes his nails dig into her flesh. Mike can’t restrain himself then. He pulls her legs onto his shoulders, setting a rapid pace with his hips as she writhes beneath him. Ginny feels like a dancer, gyrating for his blazing blue eyes. She reaches above her, clawing for the headrest or anything steady to hold onto.

The sight of her makes him breathless with want. Red marks, the signs of his lips and teeth marking their territory, are beginning to appear on her chest and neck. Her eyes are closed tight, her bottom lip between her teeth. He leans over and steals it from her, pulling the plump flesh between his own teeth. It isn’t enough. Nothing will ever be enough. He'll have to live the rest of his life inside her to even come close to being satisfied.

"More, more, more," she pleads, letting go of the headrest to hold his hair with one hand and dig her nails into his back with the other.

Mike kisses her hard, sucking on her tongue, plundering her until her cries echo in his ears and she shudders against him. He buries his face in her neck as she reaches her peak, her back arching almost to the point of pain as she clings to him. Her core grips him so tightly that he can’t take the tension anymore. Her nails dig into his neck and he snaps, roars against her slick flesh as his hips take on a life of their own, stroking and rolling. Ginny moves with him, kissing and murmuring as she rides the waves of her climax.

It seems like forever has passed before their hearts stopped racing. Ginny relaxes beneath him, her legs still around him. She runs her fingers through his hair as he lay with his head on her shoulder, peppering soft kisses on her neck.

"Wow," she whispers, her eyes half-lidded.

Mike looked up at her with a smile. "Wow? I just gave you my best moves and that's all you've got? Talk about ungrateful, rookie.”

“Okay let me come up with something better,” she laughs. “Thank you, captain. May I have another?”

Mike smiles, cocking an eyebrow at her. “I like where your mind is going, rookie.”


End file.
